


Don't Worry About It

by AeeDee



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Anal Sex, Hurt/Comfort, Incest, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-30
Updated: 2013-08-30
Packaged: 2017-12-25 02:24:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/947495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AeeDee/pseuds/AeeDee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because the fandom is evil, this.. thought entered my mind. Mako and Bolin share some very personal time together, if you get my drift. Perspective from Bolin's POV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Worry About It

In the stillness of the room, the sounds echo. Heavy breathing, he’s hearing his brother’s low and rough voice in his ear and it echoes back. Each thrust lifts his hips up from the floor, and he’s being slammed down against it, up and down and up and down. Sweat makes the floor slick and his own voice is ragged and he’s panting, much less refined and cool. He’s reflecting emotions, hunger, restrained and desperate sounds from the back of his throat as he tilts his head back. Feels each thrust ricochet, his body sliding across the floor and the vulgar sound of his brother’s legs slamming against his thighs. That low and rough voice, a growl as he starts to pound him a little harder, a little faster. The wet slick of lubricant and the scent of sweat, and the way it glistens on his brother’s shoulders. The sweat on his neck and on his face when he stares down at him, the sweat gathering beneath his eyes and _god_ , Bolin just wants to lick it off.

Wants to taste it, the way he’s tasting his mouth when Mako leans down and devours him. A hungry kiss, forceful and rough and Bolin feels like he might suffocate, but it’s so good, so good. The soothing ache, the persistent pressure of his brother’s cock pounding inside him and the coarse assault of his tongue inside his mouth.

He can hear their kiss inside his ears. Hears the sounds echo, wet and messy and vulgar, deep breaths broken and disjointed. The caresses and the brushing of their lips together and the way Mako groans when Bolin seizes the chance and sucks on his bottom lip. Bolin’s whine of pain when Mako bites him back, chews against his lips before breaking the kiss with a loud wet noise. He licks down his chin, along his jawline, and towards his neck as he continues to thrust. Thrusts so hard that those sounds continue to escalate, those sounds continue to climb; sounds of sex, of his legs slapping against Bolin’s thighs and the wet slick of lubricant as his cock slides in and out, and the way Bolin’s gasping, struggling to suppress his own moans when Mako makes love to his neck with his tongue.

Anyone could hear them now. Anyone with half a mind that hears this, they would know-

The uncomfortable warmth of the room, and the heat of the sun streaming in through the windows. The distant calling of seagulls and the cry of birds from across the streets below.

He’s not thinking about the implications. The inevitable rumors. Not right now. Because it’s not the first time they’ve done this, and it won’t be the last. Better not be.

They were quiet, the first time. Quiet and hesitant. It was the middle of the night. Bolin remembers it like it was yesterday, but it must’ve been months ago, now. It was the first time he’d returned one of Mako’s embraces, and held him, really held onto him, and hadn’t been able to let go. The first time he allowed his hands to travel, to caress his brother’s shoulders. The first time he’d looked at his face, really looked at his features and realized that he wanted to know what they felt like. Wanted to know how warm his skin was, wanted to know how rough or soft his lips were. Wanted to know how Mako would react, what he’d do if-

He kissed Mako before he had time to react. Before he had time to push him away. And there was a slight shove. Not rough, but painful enough. A look of shock and what could’ve been fear. Mako’s eyes had never looked at him like that before.

But they talked about it. Mako comforted him. Coaxed some of the truth out, awkward and stumbling as it was, fumbling with words and Bolin knew he was losing his cool. He was off his game, because he’d never even thought about how to seduce a boy before. He’d never had to wonder if he could seduce someone he really loved before, because it was always easier than that. He either knew it would work, or he knew it wouldn’t. He wasn’t ever really worried. Wasn’t ever really concerned.

But when he kissed Mako the second time, even with his permission, Bolin was terrified. When he pulled back and looked at him, really looked at him closely, Bolin felt like he’d ruined something between them. He blamed his juvenile feelings. Hormones. Impulses. Lust and foolishness.

The reassuring warmth of his brother’s embrace, when Mako slid his arms around him. The soothing, “Shh,” he’d whispered then, spoken quietly and faintly, “It's okay.”

Things were different then, the first time they made love. It was quiet and slow. He saw a side of Mako he’d only ever caught glimpses of before; Mako the nurturer, the caretaker, the protector. Bolin told him what he wanted, what he wanted to do to him and “shit, I’m sorry,” and he felt awful for it, but he blurted out that he wanted to touch him, and that he liked it when Mako was close to him, close in that way, like-

And Mako kissed him, willingly. Kissed him and told him it was alright. Gentle and slow and quiet, they undressed each other and Bolin could swear it was goddamn romantic, if it weren’t scandalous. They kissed for a while, and Mako held him and crawled on top of him like they were already lovers, and it made Bolin feel like he mattered, like he really mattered for the first time in a while.

He knew it was selfish. Knew it was reckless. Knew it was immature. But he let his brother fuck him, whether it was out of pity or sympathy or God knows what, he let Mako fuck him gentle and slow and he kissed him as often as he could, savored his touch. Knew it may never happen again, knew Mako may never again be this giving, but it felt like a gesture of compassion, like something he was doing out of love, regardless of what kind it was.

Bolin still isn’t sure how he feels, even now. Doesn’t know what happened between then and now, except that every time they have sex, Mako is becoming more assertive. More instinctive, more primal. More rough; fucking him so hard he starts to moan out loud, because he’s hitting his sweet spot and it makes his toes curl.

Bolin catches himself, in the moment before he accidentally utters his name out loud, because he wants to say it, wants to spill compliments and encouragements and praises the same way he would any of the girls he’s fucked. But this is different. This is dangerous. Names are dangerous. Sounds this loud, sound like sex. Their voices sound male, and it’s a damn fine line between a rumor that one of them fucks boys, and an accusation that they’re fucking each other.

But he still wants. He craves. He wants to say his name. Wants to tell him he loves him. He needed this, and thank you, thank you, Mako, you’re an amazing guy and I love you more than anybody.

But he can’t say a word of that, so. He settles on the next best thing.

Reaches out, to find Mako’s face. His fingers are clumsy at first and he grabs hold of his ear and then his cheek before he finds his chin and guides him up. Mako obliges, leans up and looks at him again, eyes dark and glossed over with lust and it stirs something deep within Bolin, stirs something that makes him so enamored with him that he forgets what he even wanted to do.

But he remembers; just in time, before Mako moves back down again. One hand on his chin and the other winding itself through his hair, rough and tinged with sweat and he pulls him forward, pulls him forward until their mouths are crushing together. And it’s another kiss, quieter, fainter, slower. Mako slows down his thrusts to match their pace, and it’s soothing and slow and deep. Bolin is panting faintly between each kiss, eyes heavy and closed and he’s dwelling in his moment, in the uncomfortable heat of the room and the aching sensation of his brother’s cock inside his body and the gentle and soft feel of Mako’s mouth, his rough and warm tongue as it slides between his lips. His hands caress his brother’s face and he starts to feel like, _shit_ , like he’s really falling in love.

He opens his eyes, and notices that Mako’s are closed. Notices the blissful look on his face, and the way he keeps his eyes closed for a moment when the kiss breaks, and he has to pull back to breathe. Notices the calmness in his expression when Mako opens his eyes and looks at him, straight at him and doesn’t respond with any sense of surprise or alarm. There’s only calm and silence, and the persistent, nagging sensations of aches and tension and the reminder that they should probably end this soon, before exhaustion renders them unable to enjoy it.

Bolin kisses him one more time; deep and slow. Murmurs a faint, “love you,” and searches Mako’s face for a reaction, when he lets the kiss break naturally.

And Mako nods. “You too,” and he’s looking away, refocusing his attention on his thrusts as he immediately kicks the speed up, eliciting a startled gasp from Bolin when he slams into him and attacks his prostate, a series of forceful and urgent thrusts that pound him into the floor. The sounds escalate once again. The scent of sweat and the rough and almost pained sounds Mako starts to make.

Mako's mouth falls open and doesn’t close, a tense shiver in his shoulders and the unsteady tremble in his arms as he starts to look overwhelmed. Overwhelmed and urgent, his eyes heavy as he fucks his brother senseless, eliciting alternating cries of pain and pleasure from Bolin, crossing back and forth across that delicious line between the two of them.

“Relax,” Mako growls at him, and Bolin sends back a small grin, because _ha,_ you smartass, telling me to relax at a time like this.

Mako laughs quietly, faint and reassuring. Lets it fade on its own, lets his groans and pants overwhelm the sound, lets the pleasure show on his face as his eyes start to drift and gaze into space. Shivers, startled when Bolin reaches up and starts to trace his hands up his chest, a smooth caress that’s sticky from sweat and hot from the heat of his skin and surprisingly gentle, gentle even as Mako ravages him.

Bolin’s speaking again, so quietly he doesn’t realize he even said it. Not until the sound leaves his lips and echoes in his ears, “I love you so much.”

Mako’s looking at him, now. Really looking at him, looking at him closely. And they’re staring at each other when Mako starts to tremble, and he starts to groan and Bolin feels his chest tighten because he knows how close he is. And they stare at each other, really looking closely at each other when Mako gasps one more time, hovers closely above him and moans almost without sound, a rough exhale as he comes.

Bolin’s hands are roaming, caressing up and down his chest as Mako rides out those sparks of pleasure, because he’s suddenly so enamored, so goddamn enamored with him. How hot his skin feels to touch, how much he’s shaking, the sound he just made. The way his breathing slows, and the flash of grief or confusion in Mako’s eyes before he leans down and closes the space between them with a kiss.

Mako kisses him, affectionate and gentle, tongue caressing his lips between each kiss that follows, and he continues to thrust, to do what he can. So close, so close; Bolin nearly reaches his peak every time Mako comes, there’s just something so damn erotic about it-

The kiss breaks. Mako is hovering above him, his face so close, so close Bolin can see each bead of sweat, so close he can hear each breath and pant as he thrusts and thrusts, not once breaking his rhythm. So close he can notice the fine lines of his eyelashes and the faint scars on the side of his face, and the sun-damaged marks on his skin. He’s looking. Really looking at him, noticing, seeing, feeling. Seeing, feeling everything-

Senses alive, and when he comes it startles him. His arms around Mako’s back, hands pressing against him as if he’s frightened, unable to contain his whimper, a whimper that becomes a moan when he experiences one of the strongest orgasms of his life.

And when he opens his eyes again after seeing what could’ve literally been stars, he’s looking up at Mako again, looking at him as his brother starts to laugh. His laugh, so light and warm and he finally moves back, just slightly.

Mako gives a sigh, almost a sigh of relief as he calms himself down, slowing his breathing and allowing his smile to linger. He lightly hits Bolin on the arm, telling him, “One of these days, you’re gonna wake the dead.”

“Oh yeah?” Bolin’s grinning back, as Mako’s slowly sliding out of him.

“Yeah,” he shakes his head. “And I’m gonna be in a _lot_ of trouble.”

“Sorry.”

“Huh,” Mako looks at him with some confusion, eyes wide for a moment before they appear normal again. “No, no,” he shakes his head, more adamantly now. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Yeah, but what if...”

What if they hear you. What if they confront you. What if they judge you.

“There’s no _what if_ , Bolin,” Mako’s resuming his normal tone, more assertive as he sits up, moving to stand as he stretches out his legs. “I don’t wanna hear any of that.”

Bolin stares at him with some wonder. Some confusion, too. But mostly wonder.

Mako reaches up, and wipes some of the sweat off his forehead, and gives another quiet sigh. “I don’t care about any of that.”

“But...”

Mako’s leaning down, staring at Bolin more directly as he reaches out and ruffles his hair with a firm hand. Bolin’s sending a pouty expression back, but the truth is that he feels a little giddy when his brother does things like that. When he touches him because he wants to, for the fun of it, for the small happiness of it.

Mako’s finishes his statement with a small grin, “So why should you?”

“Mako...”

“I said don’t worry about it,” and he’s idly glancing outside, towards the call of a bird not too far away. “Come on,” he looks back down at him, and he’s reaching a hand out; he’s all big brother and he’s protective and strong. “Let’s clean up.”

Bolin’s holding his hand tightly, using his leverage to raise himself onto his feet because _ow_ , everything hurts, from his ass to his legs. “I think I need a shower.”

“Of course,” Mako comments back, like it requires no thought. “Shower, then dinner.”

Bolin’s following him closely, watching him walk, confident, cool and tall strides as he makes his way across the room.

“What d’you wanna eat?” Mako’s calling back.

“Anything,” Bolin shrugs; but his tone of voice implies different.

Mako’s not an idiot. “Right,” and he rolls his eyes. “ _Dumplings._ ”

“I love you,” Bolin coos.

Mako calls back, “Yeah, I know.”

Bolin’s watching him walk, so calm and cool. Confident strides, nude body covered in scars and bruises, ones on his arms that he hadn’t noticed before. Sweat drying off his back and Mako’s running a hand through his hair, tidying it a little as he sorts through a pile of clothes with the other, pulling out the essential pieces of his outfit.

“I do, you know,” Bolin says, in a quieter tone.

Mako pauses, and turns to face him. A calm look on his face, and he’s giving a small shrug. “Yeah. I know.” He nods, “You too,” and pulls out the last piece of clothing, draping it all over his arm as he glances across the room. “So you gonna shower, or not?”

“Yeah, ‘course,” Bolin nods, finally taking the necessary steps forward.

“Come on,” Mako’s leading him again, with a tilt of his head and an intent stare. “We’ll have to hurry to catch the shop before it closes.”

He’s all big brother and he’s strong and he’s protective, and Bolin’s following behind, hurrying to gather his own clothes, sweeping them up from where he’d discarded them on the floor.

“Thanks,” but it’s really so much more than that.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it.”


End file.
